2012 Volkswagen Passat 2.5 SE

First place: Hot Six.

To admit he’s wrong, a man must have integrity and modesty. Plus maybe a shot of Jack Daniel’s, distilled not too far from the Passat’s birthplace. We initially took potshots at this “sized-for-America” Volks­wagen because it has been somewhat ­condescendingly reconstituted for obese North Americans whose notion of haute couture is the Diamond Gusset collection.

Well, we’re getting over it. What you notice first about the Passat is that it’s easier to climb into than its competitors, and the cabin has the bright, open, airy feel of a small gymnasium. Sightlines are superb, largely due to that immense, flat slab of a windscreen. Which, of course, contributes to the Passat’s exterior fashion statement. But we’re getting over that, too. One thing the boxy styling engenders is cargo space—as in a trunk as useful as the Sonata’s and the most rear interior volume.

Like the Accord, the Volkswagen was registering fair-to-middling impressions for the first two-thirds of our test. That its engine was eking out the least power from the most cylinders certainly didn’t help, although the car is lively out of the blocks, logging the quickest sprint to 30 mph. In fact, it wasn’t until we hit our handling loop that we fully probed the Passat’s winning slalom athleticism. On serpentine byways, sure enough, it summoned the best steering and brake feel, a transmission that could often predict the driver’s next move, and a ride/handling trade-off that wasn’t so much a trade-off as a victory on both counts. “Somebody sweated the suspension calibration,” noted tech director Don Sherman. Moreover, the German engine matched the Camry’s for lowest levels of NVH, and the cockpit ergonomics equaled the Optima’s.

There remain flaws. Why can’t we turn off the stability control? Why is there so much wind roar at speed? How come the steering wheel is a little cockeyed? Why don’t we fit into our Gussets?

Bottom line: The Passat evinced the best fit and finish. It was the most fun to drive. You can own one—with a five-speed manual—for as little as $20,765. Know what? That is the American way.